Chivalry
by musicin68
Summary: Robert pursued Cora for her money, but Cora was in love. How was it that he swept her off her feet? A number of little things of course. Maybe this was one of them.


_Robert pursued Cora for her money, but Cora was in love. How was it that he swept her off her feet? A number of little things of course. Maybe this was one of them._

**London 1888**

Cora stepped onto the balcony with a sigh. The ballroom was hot and crowded, and as entertaining as the dancing was she felt she needed a moment to catch her breath alone. London was turning out to be not half as bad as she had feared. In fact, when she didn't think about why she was here, it was downright fun. Unfortunately, at the end of the evening there would be an accounting with her mother of the suitability of every man she had spoken to over the course of the night. Find a husband, gain a title. How many baronets, viscounts, and the like would she have to wade through? She would not disobey her father, but there was a lingering sadness in the knowledge that she would be unlikely to marry a man she loved, much less admired.

The cold night air pricked goosebumps on the exposed skin of her decolletage and upper arms. Pleasant though the contrast was to the stuffy room at her back, she doubted she could stay out much longer without her mother coming in search of her, and she did not look forward to the scolding she would receive for temporarily abandoning her dance card or attempting to catch her death of cold. As she turned to go back into the great house she started. A man stood slightly behind her, watching.

"My Lord Dorset, I did not see you standing there." Cora was slightly flustered by his sudden appearance, but she managed an appropriate bow and the young Earl nodded in return. Her eyes lowered, she missed the look that crossed his face as he eyed her blush appreciatively.

"Miss Levinson, how gratifying to have the opportunity to speak with you again. Though, I am surprised to find you alone out here on such a cold night." His smile, Cora noted, did not reach his eyes. They had been introduced at another function but had not danced this evening. It seemed that like so many members of the English aristocracy, he felt her inferior birth a serious hindrance to the consideration of matrimony. The irony was not lost on her. The bankrupt gentry could stick their noses up all they liked at the origins of a girl from Cincinnati, Ohio, but they were still desperate for her money.

Cora smiled sweetly, but her tone held an edge, "I apologise, my lord, if my sensibilities are not as refined as those you are used to, but I found the atmosphere inside had grown too close for comfort. I was simply seeking a breath of fresh air."

His smile turned into something of a smirk and he stepped closer to her, "It is true what they say, then."

The ghost of a frown crossed Cora's face as she puzzled over this comment. She took a closer look at the heir to the Duke of Dorset. His face was somewhat redder than could be explained by the cold unless he had been outside much longer than she. Cora took a step back unconsciously in an attempt to preserve the distance between them. "What is true, my lord?"

He stepped closer still, and with another step Cora felt the balcony railing against her back. "Why, that American blood burns so much hotter than that of the English."

Her heart sped up in apprehension as he closed the gap between them. His breath was heavy with the smell of alcohol. With a jolt she realized just how exposed her position was, unchaperoned with a man she had known less than a week. A man, whose advances at this time were very unnerving. She moved to step around him only to be be stopped by his outstretched arm. His gaze rested on her low neckline, enjoying the increased rise and fall of her chest.

"You'll pardon me, my lord, but I really feel I should be returning to my mother. She will surely be missing me by now."

Lord Dorset's hand moved around her waist and Cora had the sudden sensation that her corset had tightened and that her lungs could not expand. "She will not miss you for a few minutes more, I am certain. Now, impress me. Show me just how close to the surface your passions run." He leaned forward to kiss her and her hand moved without thought. She struck him across the face and then planting her hands on his chest shoved him away with as much force as she could muster. Startled, he stumbled backwards, one hand rubbing his jaw.

Finding her breath once again Cora gritted her teeth in anger. "I hope you enjoyed that taste of my passions, my lord," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "I for one am not impressed with your manners." Mustering all the dignity she could, she stepped past him to return to the ballroom.

Recovering himself, Dorset grabbed hold of her wrist as she moved away. Cora gasped in pain as his grip tightened. "You...you...you...how dare you!" he spluttered. His face contorted, it's ruddy tinge now turned splotchy in anger.

"Release me!" she hissed, attempting to yank her arm out of his grasp.

"Lord Dorset!" A man's voice came from behind her. Cora twisted her neck around as much as she was able to see who had come upon them. Her hurried first impression was only that he was tall, and not unattractive. His very blue eyes seemed to absorb the scene before him. She glanced back at the hand still tight around her slender wrist.

"Downton," the shorter man acknowledged. "What do you want?"

"I was looking for my dance partner. You seem to have found her for me. I thank you." He held out an arm to Cora. Lord Dorset dropped her hand as if it had burned him and she gratefully took hold of the stranger. He nodded politely to her tormentor and turned to escort her inside.

"I'd watch out for that one if I were you, Downton," Dorset called out meanly at their backs. "She might give you your money's worth, but she bites." Cora flushed in shame and anger. The gentleman who had come to her rescue stiffened and glanced sideways at her, but she only looked down as she fought to keep from trembling. He clearly knew Lord Dorset, what value would her words have over those of a peer? She bit her tongue as he lead her through the great hall to an unoccupied corner and the chairs arranged there. He looked around and then gestured to a wandering footman who quickly brought over a tray full of drinks. He handed one to Cora as she sat down.

His voice was quiet, but clear when he finally spoke, "Are you alright, Miss...?"

Finally looking up at him she was surprised at the concern on his face. She nodded. "Levinson. Cora Levinson."

Much to her surprise, he bowed low to her. Much lower than was required for a peer to a woman of her station. "Robert Crawley, Viscount Grantham, styled Lord Downton, at your service."

"Thank you, Lord Downton, for your chivalry. You rescued me from a rather untenable position. I hope..." she cursed herself silently for the tears that threatened to spill. "I hope that you will believe I did not condone Lord Dorset's behavior. I shudder to think how it must have appeared."

He shook his head. "It was nothing, and it only appeared that you wished to leave. Any gentleman would have done the same."

She gave a short, sharp laugh. "Apparently, not any gentleman."

The Viscount frowned, a shadow of anger crossing his countenance. "Dorset does not often endeavor to deserve the term, I'm afraid. And the man's had far too much to drink, though that is poor excuse for his actions. I am very sorry if he has caused you any discomfort this evening."

She sighed and rubbed her wrist absentmindedly, "There is no lasting harm done."

The musicians began the intro of a waltz and he held his hand out to her again. "Perhaps you would do me the honor of dancing with me. If you feel yourself recovered, that is."

Cora smiled at the unexpected offer. She had assumed that he would leave her at his earliest convenience rather than prolong their meeting; he had caught her in a most undignified situation. He was even thoughtful enough to leave her a graceful out if she wished to take it. She decided she did not; she found that his gentle demeanor had soothed her nerves. Cora stood to accept, "It only seems fair, I'd hate to think you had perjured yourself for me."

"A lie to save face for another, hardly seems a lie." He drew her smoothly onto the floor and they began the dance.

She was right, she decided. On further scrutiny he was handsome, and he was made even more so by his considerate manner. Cora cocked her head to one side coyly. "I imagine you will find it impertinent of me to ask, but why did you come out to the balcony."

"Ah." Now it was his turn to flush red. "I, um, happen to have heard Dorset discussing his plans to, er...well...ah..." He cleared his throat awkwardly, "...seduce a young woman of his recent acquaintance, should he have the opportunity," Lord Downton finished lamely.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, "I see. Well, his abilities in that area are only rival to his accomplishments as a gentleman," she said wryly. She was rewarded with a weak smile from her partner. She wasn't sure what possessed her, but she couldn't help but tease him a little further. "And are you often in the habit of following the Earl of Dorset about to prevent his...plans?"

"Not in the habit, no." If anything, he flushed even deeper. "I happened to notice him follow you out, and so I did the same." A slightly pained expression crossed his face and Cora bit her lip. Perhaps she had pushed him too far. He had, after all, come to her aid when he was under no obligation to do so.

"I thank you again," she said quietly.

He nodded and lapsed into an awkward silence. Cora did not know what to think. She was flattered by his attention, but she could hardly believe his motives. Could he really be as noble as he seemed? Or had he, perhaps, already known who she was through his acquaintance with Lord Dorset; was he just another fortune hunter angling for the prize? Of course, rather than embarrass himself, he could have lied about how he had happened upon her. Surely, his honesty said something.

The music ended and when her partner hesitated, she gestured to where her mother was conversing with several other ladies. He led her over and thanked her for the dance. Mrs. Levinson looked on pointedly until Cora took the hint. "Mother, may I present Robert Crawley, Viscount Grantham. Lord Downton, my mother, Mrs. Martha Levinson."

He bowed to her mother, "It's an honor to meet you, Mrs. Levinson." Cora tried not to sigh as her mother returned the compliment with a nod and an openly appraising gaze. Turning back to Cora he continued, "Miss Levinson I hope to have the pleasure of your company again soon. I would like, very much, to have the opportunity of introducing you to my family."

She smiled briefly at his unfailing courtesy. He certainly seemed earnest enough. "Thank you, Lord Downton. I look forward to it." He bid her farewell and wound his way back through the crush of people. Cora watched him go and couldn't help the small smile that played at the corners of her mouth.

Martha Levinson watched her daughter closely. "Titled and polite to boot. You could certainly do worse."

"Hmm?" Cora replied distractedly.

"Nothing my dear. Now, who is next on your dance card?"


End file.
